


Four Scenes Leading to the Courtship Miles and Duv Never Had

by cynicalwerewolf



Series: Snapshots of a Non-Existant Life [1]
Category: Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-27
Updated: 2012-01-27
Packaged: 2017-10-30 04:37:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/327797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cynicalwerewolf/pseuds/cynicalwerewolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One thing he recognized about himself was that his ‘type’ was tall, competent brunettes who weren’t afraid to slap him down if he needed it. And it seemed that he had just fallen for a tall, competent, disdainful brunet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Looking

Watching the Vor lord and associated bodyguard leave his office, Duv contemplated what he had learned. Lieutenant Lord Vorkosigan was trouble. He was, by his own admission no less, bringing a host of Cetagandan assassins after him, at twenty-four he was playing admiral for a bunch of toy soldier mercenaries, seemed to have no clear understanding of what a chain of command was for, or even how to act inside one, and had insisted that a demand for eighteen million marks be sent to ImpSec HQ, immediately. On their own, these facts were enough to make Duv’s blood boil.  
  
The objection underlying all these was that the man was a Vor lord, and one who must have used Vor privilege to have even entered the service. The same service Duv had worked his fingers to the bone and wept tears of blood to even be considered for. Yet, there was something fascinating about him, almost hypnotizing…  
  
He pulled the dossier on Lieutenant Miles Lord Vorkosigan up. Even after being told about his involvement with the Dendarii mercenaries, it made as much sense as before. None. He didn’t honestly believe reading it again would give him any great insights into the man, but he needed something to focus his mind.  
  
He turned the contradictions over and over again in his mind as he scanned the file. A Vor lord who got into the Service by being Vor, but who had been resentful of the fact. The son of a great man who when offered insult bit down an angry inquiry about who Duv’s father was. A Barrayaran who became grave instead of scornful when Duv informed him he was Komarran. A false admiral who commanded the genuine admiration of his bodyguard and had seemingly been in that role for seven years. The contradictions to all prior experience were dazzling.  
  
Duv inspected the two holos included in the dossier. The first was of a smirking ensign. The second, a pleased, and incredulous, lieutenant. His thoughts meandered onto dangerous ground, contemplation that neither holo captured the man. The veiled, and almost certainly learned, aura of power and danger, the energy in the small frame, the incandescence of his eyes all spoke to Duv. Idly, he wondered what those sharp grey eyes would look like glowing with pleasure, rather than flashing with anger. What the passion he felt in Vorkosigan would feel like if it became desire…  
  
He shook his head. While Duv did have bisexual tendencies, he suppressed them for the sake of his military career, and for the political career he intended to pursue for the good of a new Komarr. To approach another man, a fellow soldier, and a subordinate would likely see him cashiered, even without him being Vor. Even with the more modern face Barrayar was trying to show, homosexuality was still frowned upon. While being revealed wasn’t the automatic death sentence it would once have been, and might not be exactly career ending anymore, it was still far too dangerous to risk a relationship built solely on lust and an only partially revealed personality. And that didn’t include Vorkosigan’s problems or interests.  
  
With regret, Duv forced himself to not think of his vision of bright eyes and passion, and instead bring forward his initial annoyance. Hostility wouldn’t be an unfamiliar response, and it was far safer for his plans. And with luck, Vorkosigan would be out of his hair, and his chain of command, once he got data from sector headquarters.  
  
Even if a part of him fought against doing so and cried for the daydreams of desire.  


Dreaming

Under the endless light of Dagoola IV Top Security Camp #3 Miles ran endlessly over dismembered corpses. No matter how fast he ran, the drop shuttle always seemed farther and farther away, and the corpses shrieked and cried as his feet trampled them. The shuttle started lifting, and in desperation he leaped and managed to grab the bottom of the still open door. He pulled himself up.

And found himself standing in the doorway of an abattoir. He was in a gymnasium, when he glanced behind him he saw it was inside a Komarran dome. The floor was sticky with blood, and the scent of blood was overwhelming. He walked into the room, seeing dead Dendarii lying face down, shot in the back. Taura was lying crumpled in a heap in one corner beside Elli, both face up. As he made it to the center, he looked down to see Duv Galeni lying at his feet, also face up, sightless brown eyes staring reproachfully.

“You damn Vorkosigan bastard,” growled a voice in his ear. He whirled about to see Ser Galen, rage in his eyes. “You forced me to kill my son, when you seduced him to your side and your Imperium.” He seized Miles’s arm, and hefted his weapon, a Barrayaran service needler, lifting it up next to Miles’s head. Miles heard the whistling tone of the weapon firing as time slowed…  
  
…And he woke up under the unblinking light in the Komarran terrorists’ cell. He lay on his shelf, panting. Slowly he started to get his breathing under control. Having nightmares about Dagoola IV and the Solstice Massacre were such fun. He knew he couldn’t fully imagine what it had been like to walk into the gymnasium after the murders of the Councilors, but a nearly eidetic memory for detail combined with a very good imagination brought him closer to true understanding than he really wanted to be.

After he stopped himself from hyperventilating, he glanced around the room. Galeni wasn’t back yet, or at least he wasn’t in the cell. He might be in the washroom, but he didn’t think that Galeni would appreciate him interrupting if he was doing something in there, and if he had collapsed in there like Miles had after his interrogation, there was nothing Miles could do to get him out.

To distract himself, however slightly, he tried to understand why the sight of Galeni’s corpse had disturbed him as much as the sight of Elli and Taura’s corpses. They seemed to have nothing in common. He was, or had in the past been, in physical relationships with Taura and Elli. The relationship he had with Duv was one of mutual annoyance becoming grudging respect. What commonality was there…Shit.

One thing he recognized about himself was that his ‘type’ was tall, competent brunettes who weren’t afraid to slap him down if he needed it. And it seemed that he had just fallen for a tall, competent, disdainful brunet. And even if they got out of this mess, he couldn’t act on these feelings, for the sake of both their careers. Galeni could do great things for Barrayar-Komarr relations, if he didn’t mess up, or get tripped up, along the way.

Also, he had no idea if Galeni was even interested in men. Ivan certainly didn’t think so, and even if he was interested in men, why the hell would he be interested in Miles Vorkosigan. Not even Elli was interested in Miles Vorkosigan.

He sighed. Repression might have a bad name, but it was a very useful, if painful, course of action.

Embracing

Duv was sitting in his office in ImpSec Komarr HQ, thinking about Aunt Rebecca, when Miles breezed in.

“Hello, Duv. Heard you were here, decided to drop by on my way through,” Miles said cheerfully.

“Ah, you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to annoy me,” Duv responded with the expected baring of teeth covering his private upwelling of desire. Three years since Earth, and he was still infatuated with Miles Vorkosigan. He paused, struck with an idea. “Miles,” he began.

Sensing a shift in mood, Miles said cautiously, “Yes, Duv?”

“I have discovered I need closure in regards to the Solstice Massacre. I was wondering, if you…”

Miles recognized what Duv was asking for, and said, “My funeral kit’s with the rest of my personal gear. I’ll go fetch it. Ah,” it was Miles’s turn to pause. He continued, “Would you object to my presence? Although…”

Duv interrupted Miles’s offer to back out, saying, “I was going to go tonight for privacy. I would be,” he searched for the proper word, “Honored, if you decided to come.”

Miles inclined his head in thanks. “I’ll prepare the kit. Come and fetch me when you are ready.” He blinked and continued, “Also, remember to let the proper people know. I don’t feel like being arrested for lighting fires, or whatever.” He abruptly left the room.

Wondering about the sudden exit, as well as rather amused that Miles had even thought of informing the proper authorities, Duv began to make those calls.

That night, after he fetched Miles from the hostel where he was staying, they made their way to the bubble car station. They boarded a bubble car in oddly comfortable silence, which still lingered when they reached the Massacre Shrine. Miles efficiently readied the brazier, while Duv contemplated the Shrine. Aunt Rebecca had been his favorite aunt, although he had only been four when she died. His father, he thought, for all his claiming vengeance on Barrayar for her death, had never properly mourned her, and perforce, neither had his family. This would be his goodbye to her and to the past she represented.

“Ready?” Miles asked.

Duv nodded, and around the swiftly developing lump in his throat, said, “Yes.”

Miles pulled a seal dagger out, and said, “I’ll cut yours, if you cut mine.”

Duv agreed, and took the dagger from Miles, cutting a small hank of Miles’s hair; half afraid he would lose control of the knife from the slight tremors in his hands. He knelt, and Miles quickly sliced off an equally small amount of Duv’s hair, and placed both pieces in the brazier. He handed Duv a fire-starter, and with his unsteady hands, Duv lit the fire.

Hair smelled terrible while burning. The offerings didn’t last long, but even after the last piece had burned, Duv stared into the brazier. He remembered the terrorist activities of the Galen family, the people, both Komarran and Barrayaran, who had died because of his actions. Tears filled his eyes, and he felt Miles’s arms around him, and turned into the unexpected, but very welcome, embrace. Miles held him in silence until his weeping subsided and he felt he could look at Miles again.

He was surprised to see, not just empathy, but desire in Miles’s eyes, banked, but present. Startled, he whispered, “You, too?”

Miles blinked in surprise, but quickly blanked his expression. The trip back was distinctly uncomforable

The next week, he met Laisa Toscane and eventually started courting her. She was nothing like Miles. Two years later, he lost her when Miles tried to do him a favor.

Kissing

Duv didn’t look murderous after he heard Miles’s explanation of events, but he didn’t look pleased, either. Miles decided to tread carefully and ask, “I hope you won’t resign from ImpSec. Komarran affairs could use an agent of your caliber, especially as I suspect the head position will be open soon.”

Duv frowned, and said, “I’m not sure I wish to keep giving up what I want, for a job that keeps giving me more and more grief for less return.”

Miles hoped that this wouldn’t prove to be dangerous ground and said, “You could do a great deal of good for Komarr and ImpSec…”

Duv’s eyes flashed. Suddenly angry, he strode towards Miles, who indicated to those watching not to interfere. He pushed Miles against the wall, pinning his arms against the wall. Miles again indicated no action. Duv growled in his ear, “I have had enough of giving things I want up for Komarr and ImpSec.” He then bent down and initiated a passionate kiss. Miles began responding without conscious thought. Before he fully surrendered himself he thought it’s like kissing Taura, without the fangs.

After an eternity, Duv pulled back and Miles looked over Duv’s shoulder to see the general response. Allegre was carefully looking at the ceiling, as was the duty officer. Ivan looked both slightly disgusted and envious. Illyan looked faintly wistful, Delia Koudelka more so. Miles winced on seeing her. Duv felt that, and after a quick assessment, turned to see where Miles was looking. He flinched. “Delia, I’m sorry,” he began.

Delia cut him off with a sad smile, saying, “Duv, I knew you were more interested in Miles. Practically every other sentence you spoke was about him.” She sighed, “Miles, do you need me here anymore?”

Miles shook his head, “No, Delia. And while I’m not sorry about this development, I am sorry about how things progressed.” He looked at General Allegre, and said, “Would you please detail someone to escort Delia out?”

Illyan said, “No need.” He politely bowed to Delia, saying, “I won’t be able to escort you home because I suspect Miles wants me here for now. Ivan, however can run you home and come back.” He turned to the duty officer, and said, “Smirnov, check Haroche, if you please.”

Ivan, Illyan, and Delia left the cellblock. The duty officer left as well. Ignoring Allegre for the moment, Miles turned to Duv and asked, “Do you want to- pursue a relationship?”

Duv met Miles’s eyes, and said, “Yes. I’ll admit the initial emotion was lust, but ever since our re-acquaintance, there’s been more there.”

Miles blinked. He found it difficult to believe anyone would ever lust for him, but… He answered Duv’s unasked question, “Same general progression here.” He turned to Allegre who was again pretending not to watch, “Would a relationship of- ah, this nature, damage Duv’s career?”

Allegre shrugged and said, “ImpSec tends to be more- accepting than the rest of the service. I don’t think I can promise he will encounter no prejudice, but there should be no violence.”

Miles nodded, he thought the same. He said to Duv, “I want to try something new for me. I want to go slowly, get to know each other. And while you might not want to make plans, if we continue there will be political maneuvering. I don’t want this to be a long-term secret. Is that acceptable?”

Duv met his eyes carefully, and simply said, “Yes.”

Allegre left to take care of business. Miles headed to the desk comconsole to report to Gregor, Duv at his side.


	2. Coda

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't think I'd be able to write this, but it came out this morning.

“Miles,” Duv whispered in a sing-song voice. “Time to wake up.”

Shifting, Miles gave him a faintly dirty look, and glanced at the bedside clock. “Duv, it’s an absolutely infernal time in the morning. What do I need to get up for?” He was never in a good mood after having to delay a seizure stimulation, which was what he’d ended up doing last night.

Duv loved him anyway, smitten fool that I am, he thought. “You have a row with the Council of Counts planned for sometime this afternoon. You promised me that you’d give me an approximate time so I wasn’t ambushed.”

“I don’t have rows with the Council of Counts, they have them with me,” Miles stretched carefully. Scratching the night’s stubble, he yawned, “Thought you had that down by now, Doctor Galeni.” Belying the tone of his words, he gave Duv a fond smile. “I’m currently planning on approximately 1600, give or take an hour.”

As they went through their morning rituals, Duv reflected that three years after they decided to try and make a go of it, and he was fonder of Miles than he ever had been. Of course, he’d had to be. If you were going to live in close proximity to Miles, you had to develop the ability to find him charming, or at least amusing, in all situations, if you didn’t already have that. Things hadn’t always gone well, but they were both equally serious about making the relationship work, and had also developed post-quarrel cooling down routines. Duv had managed to get half Vorkosigan House’s attics catalogued due to their arguments.

Miles had clashed with the Council before, but this particular battle was particularly important. Miles was announcing his intent to marry Duv. He’d asked last week. Duv had agreed.

* * *

Seeing Duv off that morning, Miles couldn’t believe how domestic they had become. His troubles with Elli had mostly been when things were calm, but here… he found he liked the calm moments.

Not that they’d have many after he dropped the bombshell this afternoon. This would be the culmination of a great many plans, scheming, research, biotech improvements, and rows (some of them with Duv, but they’d gotten past that). He sincerely doubted that they were secret anymore, but for all the changes their plans had evoked, the Council probably wasn’t expecting Miles to announce wedding plans.

Three years, he thought wonderingly. And I haven’t screwed up badly enough he’s gotten tired of me and left. There was actually very little bitterness in that thought. Over the past few years, he’d come to actually like himself.

He remembered springing news of the development of androgenesis on Duv, who had said, “While as an ImpSec Commodore, as well as for the historical record, it would be interesting to know how you managed that, personally, I think I’ll leave well enough alone.” Miles actually did tell Duv how it happened, he didn’t think he’d played that large a role in it.

He stood up. There was still a little work to do in preparation for this afternoon. He still had to give Gregor the exact timing, there were a few more people he needed to warn, and he needed to be sure he had the historical precedents right. And hadn’t he been surprised that there were actually historical precedents for Duv to find. Sometimes, Barrayaran history was amazing. And he was going to make it, he thought, if not exactly how he had ever planned.

But that wasn’t the important part. I asked him, and he said yes. Life is wonderful.


End file.
